


It Was Repulsively Criminal

by pepsicola



Series: Guilty [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25435519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepsicola/pseuds/pepsicola
Summary: Butters immediately regretted what he’d let slip out. He always seemed to run his mouth and ruin a good moment when he was with Kenny. Always. A good, peaceful, tense-free moment between them never lasted.
Relationships: Eric Cartman/Butters Stotch, Kenny McCormick & Leopold "Butters" Stotch, Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch
Series: Guilty [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842319
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	It Was Repulsively Criminal

The shout from beneath his open window startled Butters from his laptop. It was a split second that he flashed back to the squealing of tires and slamming of doors as his parents stormed through the house in search of him to punish. Upon instinct, he shut his laptop and shoved it under his pillow. His hands were shaking.

But then came a voice that didn’t belong to either of his parents; he remembered they were at work anyway, “I’m lonely as fuck, Leo! Come save me from myself!”

Only one person called Butters Leo.

He peered through his window. His suspicions had been correct, and there was Kenny, standing below, grinning up at him.

Butters folded his arms over the sill so he could rest his chin atop them. The smirk he directed at Kenny was gentle. “Gimme a good reason why first,” he called down.

Confusion fell on Kenny’s face. He scratched the back of his neck. After a brief pause, he responded, “Because you’re my best friend?”

Butters giggled into his arms. “Works for me. I’ll be down in a jiffy.”

He reached out to close his window before grabbing his phone from his nightstand. The sooner he got out of the house, the sooner he could be home and no one would notice his disappearance. He practically ran downstairs, but his dad had already beat him to the door.

Wait—his _dad?_

He hesitated for a bit. He hadn’t known his father was home, presumably on his lunch break. If the clock on the wall above the TV was any correct, now would be the time of day his dad would be home. Not that Stephen coming _home_ for lunch was all that common.

He waited to see how his father would react to Kenny’s presence.

The door was completely open to reveal who was behind it. Butters expected his father to yell at Kenny for using foul language in the vicinity of his home.

He stood tense as he waited on the stairs, making not a sound as to not be noticed.

Instead of screams and scoldings like Butters anticipated, Stephen spoke in a joyous tone and smiled at Kenny as he came into the house.

Stephen offered, “Would you like anything to drink or eat?”

Butters let out a silent breath of relief. He was always so accustomed to his parents’ disapproval of his houseguests that he commonly forgot Kenny was one of the few they liked. Even when he was swearing below Butters’ window.

Beaming, Kenny shook his head. “I’m good, Mr. Stotch. I just came by to grab Leo.” He leaned against the banister, staring at Butters with charm in his eyes.

Butters bit back a smile. Even though Kenny was only two feet away, Butters waved at him. Kenny waved back.

“If you want anything, just ask,” Stephen said. He clapped Kenny on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you nonetheless. Come by more often. You’re always welcome here.”

Something akin to pride bloomed in Butters’ chest when those words left his father’s mouth.

Kenny nodded, that bright smile on his face unwavering. Stephen walked into the kitchen.

Kenny fixed his genuine smile on Butters and said, “You ready?”

“Yep. All set.” He flashed Kenny his phone, showing him that it, and his wallet in his pocket, were all he needed.

“Cool,” Kenny remarked.

Butters came down the final steps, and when his feet hit the floor, Kenny offered his arm like a classy gentleman from the 1800s. Butters giggled and shook his head, but he took Kenny’s arm anyway.

Kenny led them outside, and even with the door closing behind them, Stephen didn’t remind Butters to be home by eleven. Butters had been preparing himself for his father’s brash bark for him to be home by curfew. The fact that he didn’t hear it made his chest swell. It was relief and refreshment in one wave.

On the sidewalk, Butters dropped Kenny’s arm. His stomach twisted at the thought of him holding it the whole way to wherever they were going. _How awkward that would be,_ he thought, doing his best to suppress an awkward laugh.

To get his mind off it, he asked Kenny, “So why were you lonely?”

Kenny said, “Henrietta’s at work and I have nothing better to do, so I thought, why not hang out with my best friend?” He bumped his shoulder against Butters’.

Butters bumped him back. “Well, wouldja look at that? It’s the same for me,” he joked.

Kenny cast him a lighthearted look of exasperation. _“Obviously_ I knew that. I have your boyfriend’s work schedule memorized so I won’t stop by when he’s around. Otherwise, he’d kick my ass if he found me around you.”

Butters’ smile froze on his face as his chest did a sort of catch thing. Even though he knew Kenny was teasing, he couldn’t just let that slide. “Eric wouldn’t do that,” he insisted.

 _“Sure,”_ Kenny said sarcastically. “I _totally_ believe you.” He rolled his eyes.

Butters frowned but brushed off Kenny’s offhand comment. Joke or not, it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to continue. To change the subject, he asked, “So. Where to?”

“Lunch. Well—late breakfast.” Kenny looked at Butters from the corner of his eye. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“Yeah.”

“Then lunch.”

“What about brunch?” Butters offered.

“I don’t even know what that is.”

Butters guffawed.

When he noticed Kenny’s puzzled smile directed at him, his laughter cut off abruptly. He could feel his ears warm in embarrassment. Kenny’s violet eyes were swimming with confusion and mild amusement.

Butters stared as he pushed out a stammered explanation, “It—it’s, um, b-between breakfast and lunch.”

Clarity glazed over Kenny’s eyes. Nodding, he drew out, _“Ohh._ That makes sense. The B-R in ‘brunch’ comes from ‘breakfast’, and the rest is from ‘lunch’.”

Butters allowed himself to chortle. “Yeah,” he agreed softly.

They walked to the nearest sit-down restaurant. There, they were directed to a booth where Butters sat across from Kenny. For a while, they pretended to flip through their menus even though they already knew what they wanted.

Kenny put his menu down first. Butters noticed him do it, but he took a few seconds to stare at the word “burger” just to keep him waiting. When he peered over the top of his menu, Kenny was already looking at him. He raised his eyebrows.

Butters snickered and set the menu aside.

Kenny wondered, “What were you doing before I came by? Since we both had nothing to do.”

Butters took his eyes off Kenny’s. “W-well, Eric had just texted and told me he’d left for work and he’d stop by later, so I…” He ran his lip between his teeth. His fingers were tearing up the corner of his napkin. “So I watched that show you introduced me to.”

He glanced up to see that the tips of Kenny’s pierced ears had gone pink. “Oh,” he said. He shifted, and his scuffed boot bumped Butters’ under the table.

He wondered if it was intentional.

A waitress came by and asked what they’d like to order. After they told her, she took their menus and went to put their orders in.

As they waited, they caught up with each other. Kenny worked two jobs and spent a lot of his free time with his girlfriend. And even though Butters didn’t work, he also spent excessive amounts of time with his boyfriend. That left little time in their busy lives for just the two of them to hang out. They hadn’t seen each other since they and all their friends went to a river further up in the mountains a few weeks ago.

Kenny told Butters about Karen and Kevin. Karen was thrilled to start her freshman year; it was the new setting and being at the same school as Kenny that excited her the most, even if they would only be at the same school for a year. And like every summer, Kevin continued to be anxious about leaving his siblings during his third year attending his university, notwithstanding him only being in Denver. Butters told him about how, despite breaking curfew a week ago, his parents didn’t say a word about it when he got home. They had probably, finally, given up on trying to enforce it because they knew it was hopeless.

The corner of Kenny’s mouth went up. “It seems like your dad really likes me,” he commented.

“My mom does too. Both of ‘em really like you.” Butters laughed the fakest laugh. In his chest, he felt bitterness flood through him. Under his breath, he muttered, “At least they like _one_ of my two favorite fellas.”

Kenny’s foot slid against Butters’ as he shifted awkwardly. Butters immediately regretted what he’d let slip out. He always seemed to run his mouth and ruin a good moment when he was with Kenny. Always. A good, peaceful, tense-free moment between them never lasted.

Kenny broke the silence, saying with nonchalance, “My parents like you too. But, I mean, they like all of my siblings’ and my friends. Except Cartman.”

Butters couldn’t control what came out of his mouth next: “Well neither do mine, so there’s that.”

As shameful heat rushed to his cheeks, an even tenser, stifling silence descended upon them. He really, _really_ needed to learn to shut up.

Luckily for Butters, Kenny knew how to deal with his awkwardness. He laughed it off and said, “Nobody can really get past his childhood badness. The reputation still sticks with him, even if he’s gotten more chill throughout the years.” He leaned over the table, and Butters’ breath hitched at his closeness. He could smell cigarettes and mint gum lingering on Kenny. Butters listed his head so he could hear Kenny whisper conspiratorially, “I think you’re the main reason for that.”

Butters cracked a smile, his insecurities slowly ebbing away. “It’s the same for the rest of us too,” he pointed out. “Our childhood reputations.”

Kenny shrugged. “Yeah, but ours aren’t as held to us as his.”

Butters nodded in agreement. “You couldn’t be more accurate.”

Their food soon arrived, and they dug in. Butters didn’t realize how hungry he was. He hadn’t snacked since breakfast at nine, and it was noon.

Kenny was halfway through his burger when he said, “What if I dyed my hair brown?”

Butters gaped but had to close his mouth before his bite of turkey sandwich tumbled out and onto his plate. He swallowed his bite half-chewed. The toasted bread scratched the back of his throat. “Nooo,” he whined, “don’t do that. I like it blonde.” He reached forward to twirl Kenny’s golden blonde bangs around his finger.

Kenny looked up at him with those piercing violet eyes, and Butters stopped. He imagined from an outside perspective what this might look like. Him leaning across the table. His hand in Kenny’s hair. It didn’t look good. He blushed, removing his hand and sitting back down.

Kenny drawled, “Oh really? You like me as a blonde? I thought you were exclusively into guys with brown hair.”

Butters sat on his hands. Maybe that would control them. He gave Kenny the side-eye as his blush turned a more visible pink. _“Kenny,”_ he scolded.

Kenny took a bite of his burger, sat back, crossed his arms, stared Butters dead in the eye, and thoughtfully chewed on his mouthful. When he swallowed, he gulped water from his glass, set it down, and announced, “You know what? Fuck it. After this, we’re going to the store to buy hair dye. And then we’ll go watch a movie at the theater.”

Butters gawked at Kenny in shock for a moment. Then he blurted, “What’ll Henrietta think?”

Kenny turned his palms to the ceiling. He picked up his burger again. “She’ll love it! I think anyway.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. As long as she still wants to fuck me, I’m good.”

Butters took a bite of his sandwich to hide his fluster. Kenny always spoke obscenely, but it didn’t matter how long they’d been friends; Butters wasn’t used to it. Even after having Eric Cartman as a boyfriend for three ongoing years, he still squirmed when that type of talk was used so casually.

“Okay,” he mumbled eventually.

“You know,” Kenny started, “I actually think Henrietta will like me with brown hair even more than she likes me with blonde hair.”

Butters’ face contorted in confusion. “Why do you say that?”

Kenny smirked. “Don’t tell anyone about this, but Henrietta’s first crush was Rodrick from the original _Diary of a Wimpy Kid_ movies. Something about her parents forcing her to watch them with Bradley and suddenly being obsessed with the rest of the movies just for Rodrick. Anyway, she loves me now, but she still has a picture of him tucked into her vanity mirror next to a picture of me. He doesn’t have much on me, I know, but competition is competition. I’m thinking that when I dye my hair, I’ll dress up like Rodrick for her. My hair is already shaggy enough. It just needs to be brown. And I already have the clothes”—Kenny waved his hands down from his black T-shirt to dark blue jeans with a chain dangling from his hip—“And maybe I’ll add some eyeliner too, for good measure. Think about it: the two guys she’s in love with all wrapped up in one!” he exclaimed, a brilliant light in his eyes.

Butters laughed. “That’s nice of you. A bit strange, but nice.”

Kenny nodded. “Anything for my girl.”

“You still shouldn’t dye your hair. That stuff’s permanent till your hair grows out.”

Kenny shrugged. Always so nonchalant.

| | |

Butters was still holding onto hope that Kenny was joking about the hair dye thing, but he lost whatever final strands of faith when they were standing in front of a register as the cashier ran a one-ounce box of Just For Men hair dye in medium brown under the red scanner.

They left the store and walked to Kenny’s house. In his room, Butters sat on Kenny’s bed. Kenny set the hair dye down on his dresser so he could take his shirt off. Butters kept his eyes on the dark screen of his phone. It felt wrong somehow: watching Kenny take off his shirt even though he’d seen Kenny shirtless countless times before.

Kenny said, “I’m gonna go put this stuff in my hair in the bathroom, so I’ll be out in, like, fifteen minutes.”

Words stuck in his throat, Butters nodded without looking up.

For a while, he messed around on his phone without an actual purpose. He went from app to app, not taking in what he was looking at.

So he gave up.

He turned off his phone and set it face-down next to him. Slowly, he turned his head as he scanned Kenny’s room. He hadn’t been in here in a long, long time. It was neater than he remembered. There weren’t things like broken skateboards or discarded shirts littering the floor. Kenny still had posters of naked girls on the walls, but they were outnumbered by photos of Henrietta. Most of which Butters could tell Kenny took himself. The ones above the headboard of Kenny’s bed were the most risque photos of Henrietta out of all the others.

In one, right in the middle directly above the wooden headboard, was a photo taken from a lower angle. Henrietta was up on her knees, lifting her shirt high enough to expose all of her stomach, the glitter of her belly button piercing included. Just a bit higher than that was the curve of the lower half of her boobs. Her tongue was out, her eyes rolled up to the back of her head.

Butters averted his eyes. He couldn’t believe Kenny kept a picture like that right where everyone in his house could see it.

Butters looked elsewhere after feeling like he’d seen a bit too closely into Kenny and Henrietta’s relationship. He knew enough about it to know that it was overly sexual, but that didn’t mean he needed to see it.

By the window, he noticed a small circle of photos taped there. The majority of the photos were of him and Kenny from seventh grade and before. In one that was taken on a field trip to an aquarium, they had their arms around each other’s shoulders as they grinned at the camera.

They had been placed in the same group. They went around the whole aquarium looking at the fish. Kenny convinced Butters to reach into the touch pool and graze his fingertips over a small stingray.

Butters smiled, warmed by the memories of the past.

In the center of the circle was a more recent photo—the most recent out of all the photos of him and Kenny. It was a picture from homecoming earlier in the year. Butters was wearing a white button-down with a blue striped tie. Kenny had no tie and the first three buttons were undone, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Where Butters’ hair was neat, Kenny’s was tousled from Henrietta running her hands through it all night long. Their arms were curled around each other’s waist. Their smiles were modest and not excitable like those from the past. The backdrop was a silk tan sheet with metallic letter balloons that spelled out “Homecoming.”

Butters touched the photo, his fingers tracing over Kenny’s face. He looked good. He lived up to the heartbreaker label that the girls had given him in freshman year. Everything about him fit it. His hair, his stance, his clothes, the way he held himself, and even the light in his eyes.

The longer Butters stared at the picture, the more off-put he felt. His nostalgic happiness faded until it was replaced by an unnerving twist. Slowly, he became aware of what was wrong with the picture: it made him and Kenny look so much like they’d arrived at homecoming together as a pair.

Butters retracted his hand like he’d been burned. Eric had never seen this photo. He’d been in the bathroom when it was taken. Henrietta took it for them on Kenny’s phone, and Kenny sent it to Butters through text, but Butters never showed Eric for reasons he couldn’t explain. But now he knew why. Subconsciously, he had always known why. If Eric saw the picture, he’d be furious at its implication.

Butters turned away, forcing out the ghost of the photo that was scalding into his mind.

In the silence of the house, the sound of rushing water came to his ears. He got to his feet to follow the sound. It led him to the closed bathroom door. The rushing water was coming from the shower. There was also another sound that faded in and out. Butters put his ear to the door. The water and the wood made the words indecipherable, but he didn’t need lyrics to know Kenny’s singing voice.

Butters stood as still as he could. He held his breath. He strained his ears for the slightest hint of what Kenny was singing.

He didn’t need to listen hard though, because then Kenny’s voice got louder with emotion as he sang, “Does he know you’re out and I want you _so bad?...”_

His voice got quiet again. Butters didn’t know what song that was. All he knew was that Kenny liked it tremendously, telling from the raw raspiness of his voice when he sang it.

Butters slumped against the door, keeping his ear against the cool wood. He looked down and noticed his hand on the doorknob. Above the doorknob was a phrase carved into the wood.

Kenny was here, it said.

A smile etched onto Butters’ lips. His fingertips went over the grooves.

He focused again on Kenny’s singing, but it wasn’t there anymore. And neither was the sound of the shower. Butters almost gasped, but he slapped a hand over his mouth before the sound could escape him.

He hurried back to Kenny’s room before he could find him standing in front of the bathroom door like a creep. In Kenny’s room, Butters dove for his phone abandoned on the bed, turning it on and seeking out the safety of the calculator app.

Not five seconds later did he hear the creaking of floorboards as Kenny walked in. Butters briefly glanced up. He had a towel wrapped around his waist. Droplets of water still clung to his shoulders. And his hair—

Butters had to do a double-take.

Now he really did gasp. He sat up. Kenny locked eyes.

His hair was brown. Wet and hanging limp against his forehead. Because his hair was dark, it brought out the purpleness of his eyes and the countless freckles on his face. Even all the piercings in his ears suddenly became more noticeable.

Butters scrambled to his feet and walked up to him to get a closer look. “Oh my gosh, Kenny. You look so—so different. L-like a different person.”

Kenny grinned. “Thanks. I like it. It’s almost black right now, but once it dries it’ll be lighter.”

Butters’ eyes skimmed over Kenny’s nose, down to his bottom lip, up to his left ear before finally landing on violet. Kenny had already been staring Butters down. The gaze lingered.

Each of Kenny’s joking words was pronounced carefully like he almost seriously meant them: “Do I have a chance with you now that I have brown hair?”

Butters stood completely still. He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe. Something electrified passed between them. Butters assumed it was his spiked pulse.

Nevertheless, he stepped back like he’d actually been electrocuted. He began walking out of the room to hide his mortification. He stopped in the doorway and turned slightly to watch Kenny from the corner of his eye. He muttered, “I thought we were goin’ to a movie?”

Kenny started, sucking a breath in. He glanced at Butters, then he glanced away. “Yeah, we are. Let me get dressed first.”

Butters gave a curt nod and practically slammed the door to Kenny’s room. He raced to the living room to wait. He stared at the wall like his phone in his hand didn’t exist. The paint was faded and peeling. There were cracks too. There were remnants of markers where there had been an attempt to wash them off but to no avail.

Kenny emerged from his room a few minutes later in a different shirt and pair of jeans from what he’d shown up at Butters’ house in. His hair—brown now and lighter as promised—wasn’t sopping; just frizzy from the towel. He had his hands in his front pockets. He listed his head towards the door. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” Butters stood and followed him out.

Down the sidewalk, he couldn’t stop the brushing of his knuckles against Kenny’s. They were walking too close, he knew, but moving away didn’t feel right. Every little point of contact made him flinch. Kenny was talking, but that was white noise in his ears. The only thing on his mind was Kenny’s warm skin that glanced his own.

He looked down at their hands. Kenny was taller than Butters by at least two inches, but somehow his hands were level with Butters’. His fingers were long and slim. Veins appeared on the back of his hand every time his fingers moved. His skin was a shade darker than Butters’. Kenny was like summer personified. He was tall, tan, and blonde. Well, he was brunet now. Temporarily. He would look like summer again by January at soonest if he decided to grow his hair out and cut off the brown.

When the bright exterior of the theater came into view, it took everything in Butters to not exhale in relief. Once they were sitting down watching a movie, there would be no movement that would cause accidental touches. There would be no trances he would be put into when Kenny made contact with him.

Kenny paid for both of their tickets. They went inside.

It was August. Despite that, there were fewer people at the theater. But it was also a Monday, and the adults—some teenagers too—were working. The lobby was empty except for the employees.

Kenny pointed to the snack counter. “You want anything?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay. Let’s go get snacks.”

The lady behind the counter asked what they’d like. “Nachos,” Kenny replied.

“Nachos?” Butters grinned. “That’s a carnival-during-Fourth-of-July snack, not a movie theater snack.”

Kenny laughed like Butters had told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. His contagious laughter made Butters laugh too. “Nachos are superior, so I wouldn’t be so confident,” he teased.

Butters shook his head. To the lady, he said, “I’ll have a small popcorn please.”

A small popcorn for only him so there would be no unnecessary hand-brushing if he and Kenny were to share a large. The thought of his hand grazing Kenny’s in a dark room wasn’t something he wanted.

That’s what he told himself anyway.

Kenny said, “Just you wait. In the theater, I’ll have you eat some of my nachos. You’ll see that it hits different during a movie.”

“If you say so.”

After they received their snacks, they went towards their theater. Going up the steps inside, Butters observed nobody was in the room except for them. They were a little early, so maybe people would show up later.

Their seats were right in the middle of the row in the very back. The armrest between their seats was lifted. He shrugged it off.

As the trailers played on, no one else entered the theater. There was always something so strange to him about being alone in a movie theater.

Kenny leaned over to Butters’ ear. His breath swept over his cheek. He suppressed a shiver. “We’re the only ones in here. We can sit wherever we want. And”—Kenny pulled away to say in a loud voice—“We don’t have to whisper!”

Butters laughed. “Kenny!” he hissed.

He looked at him. “What? Like I said, we’re the only ones. It doesn’t matter.”

Butters reached into his popcorn bucket to throw a puff at Kenny. It bounced off his forehead and into his lap. Kenny picked it up and launched it as far as he could. He stood, craning his neck over the rows of seats. “Row E. Not bad,” he murmured.

Butters giggled and rolled his eyes.

Once the movie started, Kenny calmed down. He wasn’t rowdy, rambunctious, or rebellious. Even if they did have the whole theater to themselves, they remained in the seats Kenny paid for. Kenny still whispered jokes about what was going on in the movie instead of talking in his normal voice. He even kept his phone on silent and low brightness. The way Kenny was so mellow was one of Butters’ favorite things about him.

“Here,” Kenny whispered. Butters looked at him and noticed the chip drenched in melted cheese he was being offered. “Try it. You’ll love it. I guarantee it.”

“Do I get a refund if I don’t?” Butters whispered back.

“Sure thing.”

Butters took the nacho from Kenny and popped it into his mouth. He let the flavor linger on his tongue. “All right fine,” he admitted. “It is pretty good, even in a movie theater.”

Kenny beamed. The whole theater lit up. But that was just how Butters saw it.

Somewhere in the middle of the movie, Butters started to wonder if keeping the armrest up was such a good idea after all. His head was feeling heavy, and subconsciously, it rolled to the left and onto Kenny’s shoulder. It remained there. He didn’t have the energy to move away, and truth be told, he didn’t want to. His head on Kenny’s shoulder made it easier for Kenny to keep whispering his funny comments. Especially when Kenny put his head on top of Butters’.

Of all the times they’d gone to see movies together, Kenny always sat right next to Butters so he could whisper to him. Mostly the comments were sarcastic or mocking. It made it hard for Butters to not laugh, even if the moment in the movie was inappropriate to laugh at.

Butters didn’t pay much attention to the movie. He was mostly focused on Kenny’s comments and trying not to choke on his popcorn laughing. The whole time, he was grinning and giggling. He couldn’t wipe the stupid look off his face.

Even though he wasn’t paying attention, Butters sensed the movie coming to a close. That’s when he became aware of himself. He and Kenny had somehow gotten closer. His head was still on Kenny’s shoulder, but now their sides were pressed together. His hand had been forgotten in Kenny’s empty nacho tray that was in his lap. Kenny had his arm around the back of Butters’ shoulders.

They seemed to realize this at the same time. Their eyes met in the dark. The stare held for longer than friendly, but Butters couldn’t look away. Faintly, he wondered if it was the same for Kenny.

For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it might be like if he leaned in and redid that messy kiss that happened during Bebe’s party at the end of the school year. To think, that was only three months ago, and nobody but he knew about it.

Suddenly, the theater brightened. This time, it wasn’t from Butters’ imagination. The lights were on.

He abruptly sat back at breakneck speed. There was something acceptable about sitting close in the dark, but it became immediately wrong with the lights illuminating every shadow.

A glance at the screen and the credits were rolling along with a poppy song to close the movie. Butters’ cheeks burned. What was he _doing?_ He was perfectly happy in a relationship—elated even. He shouldn’t be going around cuddling up to someone else. He shouldn’t be imagining what it would be like to kiss someone who didn’t even remember the first one.

Butters grabbed his empty popcorn bucket and stood. His shoulders were tense, and he kept his back to Kenny. “We should go now,” he said coldly.

Aware of his discomfort, Kenny obediently followed Butters out of the theater.

He walked Butters home, but the walk was in silence. Kenny kept his distance—a whole two feet between their shoulders. There definitely wouldn’t be any hand-brushing during this walk. Butters was glad.

Kenny stood at Butters’ doorstep as he unlocked the door. Once it was open, Kenny, eyes on the sky, said, “I had fun today. Thanks for keeping me company, Leo.”

Butters nodded stiffly. He was rubbing his knuckles together and watching the grass swaying in the light breeze. “I had fun too.”

In his peripheral, he watched Kenny’s eyes fall on his face. Kenny bit his lip. “I’ll see you, then,” he said softly.

“Okay. Bye… Ken,” he mumbled.

Kenny lingered for only a second. Then he turned around and made his way home.

Butters didn’t watch him walk away. There had been too many times he’d done that, and it was repulsively criminal of him. Not today though, he told himself. He’d already done too much damage for one day.

He went inside the house and closed the door behind him. He locked it up tight, pretending he was locking Kenny out forever. With each grating sound of the closing locks, flickers of guilt arose in his chest.

He grit his teeth and hurried up the stairs. He took his phone from his pocket to text Bebe.

**Bebe**

I was just curious and this is all hypothetical but is it wrong to not tell your boyfriend about hanging out with a friend? And usually when the boyfriend is at work?

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Butters awaited a reply. He rubbed his knuckles together. It was transparent that his texts were anything _but_ hypothetical. He knew Bebe would be smart enough to see through his lies. She would know he was talking about himself and Eric, and maybe she would even guess the friend as Kenny.

Would she call him out on it? Would she defend Eric since Clyde was his stepbrother? Would she say he disgusted her to be so flighty?

It took four minutes for her to reply. The ping of his phone rescued him from his pessimistic thoughts. He read her message without hesitance even though he was quivering anxiously. His hands shaking made it hard for him to read her message clearly, so he had to read it twice before understanding the words he was looking at.

it depends on if the two are really just friends or if 'friends' is synonymous with unfaithful lovers

Butters was about to say that no, the two were definitely not unfaithful lovers but strictly, only friends, but Bebe was faster at typing than he was.

either way it's wrong no matter what to not tell the boyfriend esp while he's at work earning that 💸💸💸

Out loud, Butters mumbled to himself, “Oh, you idiot. What’ve you done? Y’know she’s right.” He sent Bebe a thank you and closed his messages.

He wished he could blame Kenny for all of this. But he couldn’t because he knew _he_ was at fault. Not Kenny. The only person he should blame was himself. Ever since that stupid, meaningless kiss, Butters hadn’t been himself.

He went onto his call log. He tapped on the familiar contact name and took in a deep breath as the phone rang.

On the second ring, the call was answered. Right away, he whined into the speaker, “Eric? Is work over yet?”

On the other side, Eric’s voice sent calm waves through Butters. “Yeah, I’m getting into the car right now. Is everything okay?” There was worry in his tone. Butters trembled knowing Eric was concerned if he was okay. And here had his mind been, only on Kenny all day until he was without him.

Even though Eric couldn’t see him, Butters shook his head and stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. “N-no. I—I _miss_ you.”

He did miss Eric, that was true, but the emphasis on the word was code for Butters missing Eric’s lips on his neck, his hands on the backs of his thighs as their hips ground together.

He could envision the smirk Eric had on his face just by telling from his voice. “I’ll be over in ten minutes.”

Butters took in a shaky breath, feeling like he was about to cry. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Okay,” he squeaked. “Just hurry. I miss you desperately.”

Picking at his blanket, Butters pictured Eric coming into his room. He would scoop Butters up in his arms. The smell of the mall would linger on him because he worked at the shoe store, but beneath that would be the natural smell of his skin. Then he wouldn’t say anything because the first thing he would do was kiss Butters slowly. Being separated all day would make it more fervid. Butters would melt right in Eric’s arms and forget everything that had happened today.

The fantasy made him feel a little bit better, but it wouldn’t be enough until Eric was there with him on the bed.

“I’ll be there soon, B-Butts,” Eric assured over the phone. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Butters cried, feeling the wetness sting his eyes. Eric couldn’t see his tears though, so all he heard was the neediness in his voice.

The call ended. Butters’ arm dropped to his lap. His phone slipped from his fingers. He collapsed sideways on the bed in the fetal position, his hands covering his face. He kept too many secrets from Eric, and that made him a bad, bad boyfriend.


End file.
